Ho ha rtment, in dis- Call pr 1 It will Building, p,, Mm. 6 to & PHONE. ~ mo’ I didn’t. “ZEB IN A TIGHT FIX. HAD A KEG OF MOONSHINE IN HIS ARMS WHEN HE MET A BEAR. What Followed #nd the Comelusios | He Reached When the Trouble Was | All Over Are Graphically Told by the 01d Possum Hunter Himself, [Copyright, 1000, by C. B. Lewis.) “I was reckouin to go in with some of the men on a mooushine still,” said the old possum hunter, “but the old woman raised sich a fuss about it that XI had to give It up. She jest sulked and cried and acted up fur a aull week, | and she couldn't sleep nights fur think- in of them revenew fellers. When they got the still runnin, they wanted somebody to carry the kegs over the | mount'in to market, and they coaxed me into the job. It was a trip of fo’ | teen miles, and, of co’se, it had to be ) made at night. I dasn't let the old wo- | man know what I was doin, but as I had to hev an excuse to be out I told “her I was coon huntin. I'd bin out EL | three or fo’ nights when she turns on and says: ‘‘How about them coons, Zeb? o've bin out every night since Sun- y, but yo’ hain’t dup brung back 8 coonskin.” “‘Coons is mighty say this time of year, says I. “‘Oh, that's it! Coons jest keep right away from yo’, do they? “‘'Pears like they do, but I'm hopis to strike a big lot of ’em all to once.’ ‘“‘Waal, Zeb White, yo’ mind what tell yo’, says she as she looks straight #3 RUN UP A@’IN SUNTHIN IN THE DARKNESS,” through me. ‘Yo’ jest keep right om coon huntin, and yo’ll find a coon soon er or later, and i¢ d turn out a mighty bad find fo’ yo'.’ “Then I knowed she s’pected what 1 was up to, but as she didn’t say nuthis over to the still I felt a little skittish. The old woman's words had kind of skeered me. Them revenew fellers way around lookin fur stills, and I was lia- ble to run across 'em in the woods any time. If they ketched me with a keg of moonshine on my shoulder, it meant a year in prison fur me fur suah. When Jim Harper found I was skit tish, he says: “If it’s got to that pint whar Zeb | White, the celebrated b’ar killer and possum hunter of Tennessee, Las be come afraid of rabbits, then he'd better stay home of nights and play check ers.’ “Then Bill Hope chips in and says it's + wonderful that a man who has killed a wildcat with a club should be afraid of woodchucks. The other two men laughed at me and said I was gittin old and feeble, and, of co’se, the talk r'iled me and made me determined to #0. It was about 10 o'clock when I slung a keg of moonshine on my shoul- ders and sot out. It wasn’t a cloudy ght, but a man wanted the eyes of a it to foller the paths over the hills nd through the bresh. I tried to think was all right, but the old woman’s ords kept comin back to me; and I It my xnees grow weak as I scuffed along. I was jest about half way over he hills and had sot down to rest when heard a_b’ar sniffin in the bresh. The oise be ade was a sort of sniff-snuff, ha ‘Woof’ at the end of it. That's Pic | way a b’ar allus does when he smells a man at night. “ ‘Look yere, Zeb White,’ says I to myself as that b’ar kept comin nearer, ‘If yo’ ain’t in a scrape then I'll eat my butes. In the darkness and ove: hese hills yo’ can’t run fur shucks, hnd how yo’ gwine to fight a b’ar bare anded? *“Y'0' bet 1 wished I had heeded the pld woman, but it was too late then. 1 hought the best way was to git up nd go along and give that varmint a pld bluff, but I was tremblin all over 8 1 made forward. I tried to whistle, but my lips was dry as paper. 1 start. fl to sing, but my own voice skeered pce f & movin along slow and hop bar would take the bluff when p ag’in suuthin in the darkness. t my baud and felt the fur of a bi 1 hadn't more’n teched him sunthin hit me 'longside the head, I went head over heels down hill into the bushes. It was as if a had kicked me on the eax, and I est sense ‘ruff to wonder how fit ‘feel when the critter begun to © to pieces. 1 heard him snuffin uffin and movin around, but he ome to me, and bimeby I heard ovin away. en I went head over heels, I lost 2 I didn’t stop to look fur n b’ar moved off, but I crawled e path and started off. I was thankfulest man in Tennes: h my head felt as big as a jp. somebody grabbed me and light in my face. True as had run ag’in three reve who was hidin and waitin venin, Zeb White,’ said one ey made swah it was me, ’ That night when I went | HE PATTO HE WON IN A CANTER. “LUCKY” BALDWIN MADE HISJOCKEY RIDE SQUARE. The Horseman Used an Argument | That Made the Crooked Rider's | Teeth Chatter While He Got Out All the Speed In the Animal, In the lobby of a hotel the other evening a number of men were discuss. ing sports and sporting mem when the subject of nerve and grit came up. One | of the party, a well known Californian, who knew “Lucky” Baldwin in the old days, said: | “Baldwin was about the hardest man | ! to be chiseled out of anything he set | his heart on getting that I ever met up with. A whole lot of people tried to put it on him in business and other sort of deals, but none of these ever suc- [ceeded in catching ‘Lucky’ Baldwin pufliciently asleep to make their plans stick. “Horsemen still talk about a funny game in which Baldwin figured on one of the Chicago race tracks a number of years» ago. Baldwin had brought his magnificent string of thoroughbreds to | Chicago to make an effort to annex the swell stakes that were then on tap on | the tracks In the windy town, and he got them home first or ia the money in | many of the biggest events. Well, he | had one of his finest horses entered in | a valuable long distance ‘event, and | Baldwin was particularly anxious to win this race, not so much for the | purse end of it as for the glory of cap- wring the stake. His horse just about | figured to win, toe and Baldwin in- | tended to ‘go down the line’ on the ani- mal’s chances, not only at the track, but at all of the big poolrooms in the | country. He stood to clean up consid. | erably more than $100,000 on the horse | if the brute got under the wire first. { Baldwin's regular stable jockey was { taken sick on the morning of the race, | and the old man had to hustle around | for another boy to ride his horse in the big event. From another horseman he | bought for a big round sum the release i of a high grade rider, who was to have | taken the mount on a thoroughbred | that didn’t figure to get near the money | In the stake race. Baldwin gave the | Jockey his’instructions as to the way | he wanted the horse ridden, and then, | when the betting opened, his commis | sioners dum jd Baldwin’s money inte the ring in such large quantities that | the horse became an overwhelming fa- | vorite. | “A quarter of an hour before the horses were due to go to the post a | well known bookmaker, to whom Bald- | win pad often exhibited kindness in | less prosperous days, ran to where the | old man was standing, chewing a | straw, in his barn. | “‘Baldwin,’ said the bookie to the old man, ‘there's a job to beat you, and you're going to get beat. They wanted | me to go in with em, but you've al- | ways been on the level with me, and 1 | wouldn’t stand for it. The ring ha# | bought up your jock, and your horse | is going to be snatched.’ P “ ‘Much obliged for telling me that,’ | replied the old man. ‘I'll just make a | stab to see that me boy doesn’t do any | | snatching, though.’ { “Baldwin borrowed another gun | from one of his stable hards (in those | days he always carried one of his own | about as long as your arm), and with | his artillery he strolled over the infield | and took up his stand by the fence | | at the turn into the stretch. He hadn’r mentioned to anybody what he was go- ing to do, and the folks who saw the | old man making for the stretch turn | simply thought that Baldwin wanted to watch the race from that point of view. He did, for that matter, but he happened to have another end in view “Well, the horses got away from the post in an even bunch, and then Bald- win’s horse went out te make the run- ning. The jockey’s idea was to race the horse’s head off and then pull him in the stretch, making it appear as if the animal had tired. Baldwin had instructed the jock to play a waiting game and make his bid toward the fiu- fsh. The horse simply outclassed his company, however, and he didn’t show any indications of leg weariness what- ever as he rounded the backstretch on the rail a couple of lengths in front of his fleld. Baldwin could see, however, that the crooked jock was sawing the horse’s head off in his effort to take him back to the ruck. When the horses were still a hundred feet from him, Baldwin let out a yell to attract his Jockey’s attention, and then he flashed his two guns in the sunlight and bawé ed at the jock: “ ‘Leggo that horse’s head, you mon- key devil, and go on and win or I'll shoot you so full of holes that you | won't hold molasses!’ “The jock gave one look at those two guns that Baldwin was pointing straight at him. Then he gave Bald win’s herse his head, sat down to rids for all that was in him, and the horse under him cantered in ten lengths to | the good on the bit. As long as ‘Lucky’ Baldwin was on the eastern turf after that no jockey ever tried to yank one of his horses.”—Washington Post. The Right Word. hood. madam,” % OURIER, JANUARY 26, 19u6/ ADOUT 4 dUZen Years ago, KS near a8 1 remember, this young man went on a visit to a relative in a neighbor Ing city, and one afternoon, on the third or fourth day of his stay, he startled a dady member of the house hold by remarking that he ‘had a feel Ing’ that some misfortune had over taken a wealthy planter whom they both knew very well, and whom | will | The colonel was a | doctor's | call Colonel Jones. prominent resident of the home town and had a large outlying estate, which he was In the habit of visiting once a week. “On the day of Smith's singular pre monition he was on one of those tours of inspection, but failed to come back. and the following morning his corpse was found lying in a cornfield. He had evidenty been dead about 24 hours, and from the appearance of the body seemed to have been seized with some sort of fit or convulsion. “Of course the affair created a great stir, and the police made a pretty thorough investigation, but the only thing they found that merited any special attention was a small, round vial in the dead man’s vest pocket, [It was about the diawneter of a lead pen ell by four inches long, and had orig: nally contained a couple of dozen medicinal tablets, which, lying one on top of the other, filled the little bottle to the cork. A few still vemained im the bottom. “Upon inquiry it was learned with out trouble that the tablets were a harmless preparation of soda, and that Jones himself had bought them at a local drug store. That ended suspicion in that quarter, and, for lack of any- thing better, the coroner returned a | verdict of death from sunstroke. There was no autopsy. “Some time after Jones had been buried,” continued the police commis sioner, “I learned accidentally of Dr. | Smith’s curious prophecy, and it set | me to thinking. Eventually I evolved a theory, but it was impossible at the time to sustain It with proof, and for five or six years I kept it pigeonholed In my brain, waiting for something to happen. Meanwhile, surprise, Dr. Smith went to the dogs He began by drinking heavily, grad- | ually lost his practice, and finally skipped out to avoid prosecution for cashing a fake draft. After his flight I learned enough to absolutely confirm my theory as to Jones’ death. What had really happened was this: “Dr. Smith owed the old man a con- siderable sum of money and had given a note, upon which he had forged his father’s name as indorser. The plant er was pressing him for payment and had threatened suit, which meant iu evitable exposure. One day, while they were conversing, Jones pulled out a little glass vial and swallowed one of the tablets it contained, remarking that he took one daily, after dinner, for sour stomach. “That suggested a diabolical scheme of assassination, whieh the doctor pro- ceeded to put into execution. Repair Ing to his office, he made up a duplicate tablet of strychnine, and, encountering the colonel next day, asked him to let | him have the vial for a moment, so he | could copy the address of the makers from the label. “Jones handed it over unsuspecting: ly. and while his attention was briefly diverted elsewhere Smith put in the prepared tablet. He placed it under the top four, thus making it reason- | ably certain that his victim would take | ft on the fifth day from that date. Next morning he left town, so as te be far away when the tragedy was consummated, and some mysterious uncontrollable impulse evidently lec him to make the prediction that first excited my suspicion. “When 1 made certain of all this, 1 located Smith in Oklahoma and was on the point of applying for an extradi- | tion warrant when he anticipated me by contracting pneumonia and dying. I thereupon returned the case to its mental pigeonhole, where it has re- mained ever since.” “Pardon me for asking,” said one of the listeners, “but is that really a true | story, or are you entertaining us with | Interesting fiction 7” “It is absolutely true,” replied the | onarrator. “But how did you learn the particu: ars?’ “Well,” said the police commissioner, smiling, “Smith was like most clever eriminals--he had one weak spot, He was fool enough to tell a woman. She blabbed.”—New Orleans Times-Demo- erat. Ate Course Dinners. A woman just arrived from Aus tralia was She asked if it was a nice neighbor: “It is thoroughly desirable, replied the house agent. “They are without exception soup and fish families.” It is not correct to say that a girl “renders” a song. world, she may some day render lard, but she can’t render 8 song.—Atchivon Globe. Lana Custom Influenees Language. Pomologists, like botanists, find it to everybody's | recently negotiating with | an agent in London for a house in one of the newer districts of Kensington. If she lives long | enough to become of some use in the | Impossible to enforce the rules of priors “Why do you speak of him as a fin- ity in names of fruits and flowers. In ished artist?” “Because he told me he was utterly discouraged and was going to quit the profession. If that doesn’t show that be’s finished. 1 don’t know what does.” =-Chicago Post and Telegraph for a grape have not societies to support prior names. Those Riddle Solved. First City Boy—Oh, see the cows eat: ing shavings. Second City Boy—I1 suppose that's how we get chipped beef.—St. Louls | Post-Dispatch. | made the sun a he and the moon a she | that we have accept it. Thus it will ever be. To secure the adoption of a prior name reformers must beste ther selves before custom gets posses law of custom. we are told “the English language re From criminal statistics a German sociologist has deduced that property rights of all kinds are respected more geunevaliy hy the married tham by the siou of the field. -~Mechan’s Monthly, i fruits the names of Bartlett for a peas | been changed in spite of the efforts of | leading pomologists and pomological | who lead in these good efforts forget | that the only law for language is the | In a famous grammar | quires the promoun ‘it’ for all inani- | mate objects.” but custom has so firmly | WANTED A RECEIPT, The 21d Lady Insisted Upon Follows ing Instructions, The old lady was not used to travel | Ing on the Brondway cars, She had | evidently spent her youth and middle | age in the rural regions, but doubtless | she called old Ireland Lome, The con ductor, who differed little from the rest of his Kind, came tlirough the ear calling for faresc The old woman held out her hand, in which an nickel was tightly e'utehed, then drew it suddenly back us if she had made rome mistake. “I want my ‘resate’ first,” she said in a rich Doolian dialect. The conductor paid no heed; but, hold ng out his band, demanded, “Fare, please.” “But 1 want my ‘vesate,’ ” she repeat | ed. | “No receipts, lady,” said the stolid “I'll have to have your A ———— | eonductor. tare.” “My son told me not to give up any money without getting a ‘resate,”” in | sisted the old woman stoutly. The kind lady with the sweet face and Paris clothes proffered the assur | | ance that it was “all right,” that no- body got receipts. “See, 1 pay my fare without one” she said, giving the conductor a dime | and the woman a reassuring smile, | But the woman was stubborn. “1 want my ‘resate,’ ” she reiterated. The conductor mechanically held out a nickel to the kind lady of the Paris gown, but she shook her head, nodded toward the old woman and smiled. The conductor without a word passed on through the car, which lurched and | swayed through Urion square. the “resate” shook her head grimly, | settled herself back in her seat and held on to the nickel, determined not to knowledgment.--New York Mail and Rxnress LIKED THE POORHOUSE. Would Not Leave It to Go For Mone: That Belonged to iim, “1 won't go out! I won't leave here for anything!” Such was the amazing declaration ¢ f pauper attendant in an east end Lon don workhouse on being told by au agent that he was entitled to some money. And the man—the son of a post captain in the navy-meant all that he said Not an inch would he | budge, nor would he sign any paper, and it was only by taking a commis- sioner down to him that the fund eould be recovered. Whether because it was only a com | | paratively small sum or whether be cause he was a worker, the guardians made no claim on it. Aeceordingly, at his request, it was split, and two ac counts were opened on his behalf ip the Postoffice Savings bank. But, for all that, he continued to remain in the workhouse. Meanwhile he was very anxious that his wife should not know he was alive | —in fact, he denied that he was mar ried. His life partner, however, called at the agent's office to inquire about the case, though she begged that her husband might not be told of her | whereabouts. She was in a fairly | good position, earning as she did a liv tng by keeping a ladies’ school, and once or twice her reprobate husbané had turned up in an Intoxicated cond! tion and raised a commoticn that haé scandalized her pupils. The ill sorted pair were, therefore, not brought inte communication. Never would the pauper legatee leave the workhouse. He remained there til} his death, whereupon, having left ne will, the money be had scorned to use passed to his wife.—Cassell’s Saturday Journal He Got a, Passe. | “Halt!” eried an alert patrolmap in | Manila as a beautifully caparisoned | carriage drove up containing a portly | gentleman. The driver reined his | steeds, and the sentry, standing firmly “Who is there?’ occupant of the carriage answered, “Judge Taft, president of the civil? | commission.” “Advance, Judge Taft, to be recog. nized,” bawled the sentry. The judge advanced, and the following dialogue took place; | Sentry—Have you = pass? | Taft—No, sir; do I require one? | Sentry—You do, sir, and it’s my duty | to run you in. Taft—But I am the eivil governor of | the Philippine Islands. | Sentry—That doesn’t cut any figure. You're a civilian and out after hours. I'll let you go by this time, but the next time I catch you yow'll have to see the captain.” “Thank you,” murmured Judge Taft as be drove away. And there and thes | he formed a resolution to put in an | application for a pass. According to the Manila Freedom, he got it. A Couple of Bulls, An advertisement recently published In a newspaper in Ireland set forth | that “Michael Ryan begs to inform the public that he has a large stock of cars, wagonettes, brakes, hearses and other pleasure vehicles for sale or hire.” This is the same paper which, in & glowing description of a funeral, an- magnificent wreath of artificial lowers in the form of a cross.” His Pointed Remark, ey talks,” she remarked. “Yes; it is an old saying and a true ane,” he replied; *‘but, unfortunately, while money talks, all that talks is not money.” “Why do you say ‘unfortunately? ” | she asked. | “Because if that were so,” he ar | swered, “I would be married to a fab | alans fartana”—landan Fan She of | relinquish it without the necessary ae in the center of the street, shouted, Not knowing what else to say, the! “I frequently hear you say that mon. | IRISH TURNS AND TWISTS. ELECTION DAY, a — | The Unconscious Humor That Crops How It Came to Be Tuesday After Out In the Green Isle, ! First Monday In November, | The author of “Irish Life and Char | The designation of the day for hold acter” says truly that one has only to mix with an Irish crowd to hear many a liughable expression, quite in. nocently uttered. As the Duke and Duchess of York were leaving Dublin In 1807, amid enthusiustie cheering, an old woman remarked: : | *“Ah! Isn't it the fine | they're gettin, goin away?" In 1892 Dublin university celebrated | Its tercentenary, and crowds of vise itors were attracted to the city. Two laborers, rejoiced at the general pros perity, expressed their feelings. | “Well, Tim.” said one, “thim tan cintinaries does a dale for the thrade | of Dublin, and no mistake.” “Ok. faix they do!” sald the other. “And whin, with the blessia of God, we get home rule, sure we can have as manny of thim as we plase.” An old woman, seeing a man pulling a young call roughly along the road, exclaimed: “Oh, you bla’guard! That's no way | to thrate a fellow crather.” “Sure,” said a laborer to a young lady who was urging him to send hia children te school, “1! do anything for | such a sweet, gintlemanly lady os yourself.” | Again, the laborers on a large estate | decided that it would be more con. | venient for them if they could be paid | every week instead of every fortnight | One of their number was sent to placs | their proposition before the land agent | and this was his statement: “If you please, sir, it's me desire and it is also .very other man’s desire thac we resave out fortunight's pay fvery week.” An exasperated sergeant, drilling a | | squad of recruits, called to them at | last: “Halt!” ye, and look at yourselves. Yun wivy Paowin ten) te0 JUST A BIT OF LIFE. | A Pathetic Incident of the Pawn. shops In the Metropolis, Sneaking into a small shop in an ob- scure and poverty ridden locality, the man who “went broke” at the races | was realizing on a superfluous article of jewelry. A woman so poor and pinched in feature, so marked with care and desperation that it made hin feel sick to look at her, was holding something under her shawl and wait- ing nervously until he should have fin- ished his transaction. “Wait on her. She seems to be in a hurry,” he sal to the man behind the | counter, and at the word of permission & carpenter’s plane was produced from the shelter of the shawl. “How much do you want?’ gueried the unmoved pawnbroker monotonous. | ly. “Fifty cents,” replied the woman, { with a gulping in her throat and an | eager look in her eyes. She clutched ! the money tightly and ran into another creature, poor as herself. but bearing her troubles in duller fashion. She had a baby’s cloak, never costly and much worn, on which she wanted to | reception | Just come over here, all of It's a fine borrow money, the same sum as the | | other woman had asked for. | The man who had been offering a | diamond felt uncomfortable. “There | give me $50. The stone’s worth four times as much.” And, seizing the mon- ey, he hurried’ after the woman whe had just left the shop. He was not | given to acts ef charity, and he felt awkward, the more so as the woman shrank from him as he accosted her. “T beg your pardon,” he began, “but here’s $5 1 have no use for. Perhaps | you'— “No, no!” she eried, drawing further | from him. | “For your child,” he said gentiy. “My child is dead!” cried the woman, with a queer sob, and fled into the labyrinth of alleys and byways that | { shelters so much wretchednesg.—New Wanle Tenace | Clothes and the Man. If a Filipino enters the house of a | Eurepean living in an unassuming way, he will not believe that the Eu. ropean is either wealthy or wise, and, although his manner may be correct, it will not be humble. On the other | | hapd, if he wisits an ignorant map | | whe indulges im great splendor, he will | | ut cace become exceedingly respectful. | Mr. Phelps Whitmarsh, who in The | | Outlook givew his experiences in the | islands, tells the story of = wealthy | provincial visiting Manila for the first | time, who asked to be presented to the governor general. | When he reached the palace, he | found the governor taking coffee on | his piazza, dressed comfortably in 8 | white cotton suit. The Filipino re | quested that some favor be extended | ® his district, ‘and his request was | granted. He then withdrew. The offi- | cial who had procured the presenta- | tion asked him what he thought of the | general. “Why,” replied the visitor in a tone | of disappointment, “he is no different | from any other white wan.” It so happened that the general waa | told of the incident, and he gave or- , ders that at his next reception the Filipino should be present. Upon entering the thronercom and seeing the general in full uniform, surrounded by his brilliant staff, with nounced that “Mrs. B. of G— sent 8 the accessories of splendid tapestries, | laced ushers and all the pomp and splendor of these Spanish functions | the provincial grew pale and, kneeling in deep humility, exclaimed: “This is indeed my general!” So impressed was he that the fol- | lowing morning he sent aspair of hand- | some horses to the general with a note | | which read: | 80 much in your uniform of gold that I send you this pair of horses, but de not use them when you dress in o | white suit.” “My general, yesterday I liked you | Ing the presidential election Is left to congress. The first act passed by It re lating to that subject was In 1792. If provided that presidential electors should be appointed “within 84 days before the first Wednesday in Decem- ber.” This loft each state free to select a day to sult (self within those Hmits. Pennsylvania chose electors on the last Friday lu October, Other states elects ed “helrs on diferent days between the begianing and middie of November. When karrson was elected in 1840 the Den isserted that his sue« sess wis due partly to fraudulent vate ng. which was made possible by the lack of a definite election day. It was alleged that Kentucky and Ohio Whigs had voted in both states, the election beng beld on different days. So in 1845 the Democrats passed the law now on the statute books making the first Tuesday after the first Monday election day. At that time but five of the 26 states bad their elections in November. Lb Michigan and Mississippi voting was carried on through two days—the first Monday and the following Tuesday. New York had three election days—the first Monday, Tuesday and Wednes- day—but had finally confined voting to the middle day, or the first Tuesday after the first Monday. Massachusetts chose state officers on the second Mon: day in November and Delaware on the second Tuesday. So congress selected the first Tuesday after the first Mon. day to consult the convenience of three states out of five, one of the three be ing the important state of New York.- | Chicago Tribune. * Following Up His Customer, A French commercial traveler was ! expecting a large order from a country tradesman, but had the misfortune te arrive in the town on a fete day. Find- ing the shop closed, he inquired as te the whereabouts of the proprietor and ascertaining that he was attending the fete, about a mile out of town, set ous after him. When he arrived there, 8 balloon was on the point of ascending, and he saw his man stepping inte the car. Plucking up courage he stepped forward, paid his money and was al- lowed to take his seat with the other aeronauts. Away went the balloon, and it was not until the little party was well above the tree tops that the “commercial” turned toward his cus- | tomer with the first remark of “And now, sir, what can 1 do for you iI» calicoes?” The Bedroom, The simplest and most ecomomieal plans for purifying the air in bedrooms are as follows: Heat an iron shovel, then pour on it a few drops of vinegar. If possible, have windows and doors open at the time. Again, have some lumps of eamphor in an old saucer, heat the poker till very hot (but net ged) and touch the camphor with it. The smoke that arises will take away | all disagreeable odors and leave no op- pressive ascent behind.—Londoa Ax Swers. | HE WORKED DESTRUCTION. A Sample of What a Fairly Healthy Cockatoo Cun De. A light chain securely fastened om the cockatoo’s leg promised safety, but Le contrived to get within reach of my new curtains and rapidly devoured some half yard or so of a hand painted | border, which was the pride of my heart. Then came an interval of calm and exemplary behavior which lulled me into a false security. Cockie seemed | to have but one object in life, which was i+ pull out all his own feathers, and by evening the dining room often | looked as though a white fowl! had been piucked ia it. I consulted & bird doctor, but as Cockie’s health was perfectly good and his diet all that could be recommended, it was supposed he only plucked himself for want of occupation, and firewood was recommended as a substitute. This answered very well, and he spent his leisure in gnawing sticks of deal-w only when mo one chanced to be in the roon: he used to unfasten the awive} of his chain, leave it dangling on the stand and descend in search of his playthings. When the fire hed not been: lighted, I often found half the coals pulled out of the grate and the firewood in splinters. At last, with warmer weather, both coals and wood were removed, so the next time Mastex Cockie found himself short of a job he set to work on the dining room chairs, | first pulled out all their bright nails and next tore holes in ‘the leather, through which he triumphantly dragged the stuffing. At ome time he went on a visit for some weeks and ate up everything within his reach in that friendly estab- lishment His “bag” for one afternoon consisted of a venerable fern and a large palm, some library books, news- papers, a pack of cards and an arm- chair. And yet every one adores him, and he is the spoiled child of more than | wne tamilyv..—Cornhill. The Belgian artisan epends his lei sure in a very curious manner. He | keeps a special cock for crowing, and | the bird which can outcrow its fellows was reached the highest pinnacle of | perfection. The mode of operation is | to place the cages containing the roost- ers in long rows, for it appears that one bird sets the other off crowing. A marker appointed by the organizers of | the show is told off. for each bird, his duty being to note carefully the num- | ber of crows for which it is responsible in the same fashion as the laps are re- corded in a bicycle race. The custom: ary duration of the match is one hour, { the winner being the bird which scores the highest number of crows in the al- lotted time. A great number of these | cempetitions have taken place in the . | Liege district, and in some cases heavy bets have been made on the result.
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers